The Bride Says No
by ellima
Summary: Modern AU. When Clarke realizes that she can't marry the man waiting inside the church for her, she runs. And stumbles onto the motorcycle of a mysterious man, who helps her to escape. And when she doesn't have a place to stay, no money, no phone, he's willing to help her once more.
1. Chapter 1

The sun was shining, no clouds for miles. The perfect weather for a wedding.

Her heartbeat was as loud as a drum in her ear as her eyes darted across the nearly empty parking lot. Her hands were fumbling on the white silk of her wedding dress, and she took a short look back on the church gates that were just about to shut behind her.

She needed to get away. Now.

Was this a bad decision? No. No, she was sure she didn't want this. Running felt _right_ , maybe not to her brain, but in her guts.

Clarke spotted an empty car, a skateboard leaning against the church wall, and – on the other side of the street- a bus, just about to take off.

"Hey!" She sprinted towards the bus, but she tripped in her high heels and cursed as it disappeared before she was even down the church's steps. She let out a moan of frustration and was just about to seriously consider taking the skateboard to escape, when a motorcycle speeded into the driveway and stopped just a few meters from her.

It must have been a gift from god.

There was a guy sitting on it. She couldn't see anything but a huge helmet and a leather jacket, but she lurched forward and basically screamed at the man.

"Please! Help me! I need to get away, please, my mom will come looking after me any second now, and just _please,_ take me away from here!"

The guy raised his visor, looking taken aback. She saw dark brown eyes, and the artist in her would die to draw that deep, thoughtful look in it and the shadows his long lashes threw. For a second, they captured her.

"Woah, calm down, what are you talking about?"

Clarke was getting more and more tense, expecting her mother to storm out the door any second, angry and trying to convince her to go back inside. Which she really didn't want to. She didn't want to marry the guy standing in front of the altar in his perfectly fitted suit.

"I'm sorry, but I need to get away! Please, can you give me a ride?"

She said, trying to sound calm but really convincing.

The guy smiled apologetically. He seemed honestly sorry about it.

"Sorry, I can't just leave. I'm the photographer at a wedding that's about to start any minute inside there" He pointed to the church "And I'm already late, and believe me, I know how furious brides can be…"

Clarke let out a hysterical giggle.

"Believe _me,_ the only way you're going to make the bride furious is to not take her on that stupid motorcycle NOW."

The man's eyes widened in surprise, then he eyed her outfit when it suddenly seemed to dawn him that she wasn't wearing a white gown and a veil just for fun.

"Well, are you…?" He started saying something, when the church's gates suddenly flung open and Abby Griffin stormed out, eyes scanning the square for her daughter. She looked _furious._

"Come on!" Clarke shouted, and without waiting for a response, she jumped on the motorcycle's backseat and wrapped her arms around him.

It took him a few seconds before he turned on the engine since he was really startled, but as the vehicle finally drove off, she let out a laugh of relief. She took a look behind her, and could see her mom's shocked look as she watched her daughter rebelling for the first time in her life.

Flying. They were flying across the streets, and it was the freest Clarke had ever felt.

She had no clue where they were going, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that she felt like a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders, like she could finally breathe after a lifetime under the water.

The wind ran through her hair, completely messing up her up-do, and she knew she was being irresponsible for not wearing a helmet, but hell, she had just escaped her own wedding, and what more irresponsible could she be?

She carefully lifted one arm to remove the remaining bobby pins and letting the veil fly before looping her arms around the photographer's waist again.

He smelled like leather and like smoke, not like cigarettes but the kind of wooden smoky smell that you could smell at campfires and that immediately reminded you of long summer nights, of dancing and hooking up with hot strangers. To her, this scent was incredible.

She snuggled up against him, breathing in his scent, closed her eyes and dreamed about flying.

* * *

He had brought her to a cafe he sometimes went to with Octavia.

When Bellamy parked his motorcycle, the girl let out a disappointed sigh before getting off.

He eyed her through his visor. Her hair was a tousled mess, but her eyes were bright and blue and filled with joy and he couldn't help but think they were the most breathtaking eyes he'd ever seen.

When she slightly tilted her head and asked "Why are you staring at me like that?" it pulled him back to reality. He took of his helmet and got off the vehicle.

He had no idea what he was doing. Helping a bride escape her high-class wedding had not exactly been on his to-do list for today. But that pleading, helpless look in her eyes had somehow moved him, and he was pretty sure that this woman didn't have cold feet. She had seemed almost terrified as her mother had come out.

It had been a look that said that she clearly couldn't imagine anything worse than stepping back into the church and get married.

* * *

Clarke had to admit he was incredibly handsome. As he took off his helmet, he revealed thick brown curls that kind of made her want to bury her hands inside them. He held open the door of a café he had parked next to and seated himself across her after she chose a table.

It was a cozy café with a nice, welcoming atmosphere, vintage furniture and the smell of cake and chocolate in the air.

"I'm Clarke." She finally said after a short awkward silence.

"Bellamy Blake", he responded, still staring at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.

"So… thanks for the ride, I guess." She said, trying to start a conversation.

"You're welcome."

Well, he was apparently not making the effort.

The waitress approached their table, and Bellamy ordered pancakes and a mint tea. There were another few minutes of awkward silence.

"I didn't love him." She suddenly blurted out and felt her face redden. "Oh, well, I liked him, really, but not in a romantic way, you know?"

He responded with nothing but a raise of his eyebrows, but Clarke needed to talk this off her chest.

Though she did hope he would say something, comfort her; tell her she did the right thing.

"You know, my mother kinda set us up. His dad is like, an influential man, and she always tried to convince me into going out with him. I mean, it was no problem at first, because I _do_ like Wells, and I guess my mother can be pretty persuasive. You know, I've always had to live up to my mom's expectations. She gave me so little freedom, but I've never really questioned it until I met people who didn't have to live the life their mother had already perfectly planned out for them. It's just, I never wanted to upset her and I've gotten so used to living like she wanted me to."

Clarke could feel a lump in her throat, but she tried to push down the tears.

She was not going to cry in front of that handsome, gruff man.

"But you also dragged the boy into it. He's probably heartbroken." He said, though he didn't look like he was judging her. He just listed facts.

Her face was covered in guilt at the thought of Wells, looking at her with puppy eyes, so madly in love with her that he was blind to see that the feelings were not returned.

"I – I know", she muttered "It's all so unfair to him, but when he proposed… at first I said no. We hadn't been dating for long, just half a year or so, and I felt like it was way too early, despite the fact that I…" She trailed off and let out a sigh. "When I told my mother, she was furious. She told me I'd never catch such a great boy again, and that he would give me everything I wanted and how he was the best I'd ever get… And after yelling at me for two hours straight, I started believing she was right. He really did care about me, loved me even, and he was the governor's son and…"

"Woah, wait what? Governor as in the governor of California, as in Governor Thelonious Jaha?"

"Yeah, he's Wells Jaha." Clarke sighed and buried her face in her hands. The free, relieved feeling had faded, leaving guilt, sadness and fear.

"Oh my god. What am I supposed to do now? I can't go back and face them!"

She started to do her breathing exercises to calm the hysteria rising in her.

"It's okay. Hey, look at me." He said, looking a bit helplessly. "Just, uh, please don't cry. I'm not good with crying women." His eyes were soft and pleading.

She eyed him, tears about to spill. She let out a short little sob.

"No, it's alright. Really. No need to worry. Shh."

Then he reached over and touched her hand, patted it slowly, which strangely gave her tingles in her stomach. Clarke blinked away the tears, staring in the stranger's eyes, almost pleading.

"I don't want the life she wanted for me." She whispered as she could feel a tear finally spilling and silently running down her face.

Bellamy Blake slowly raised his hand and wiped away the tear from her cheek, his eyes following his movement and then left his hand softly stroking her a few times before he put it down.

Clarke could still feel where he had touched her skin.

"And you don't need to live it. It's your life, after all. You have to make your own decisions, your own mistakes, and let them make you who you are. You can't be yourself in a life that is not truly your own." He said, and she could read from the serious expression on his face that he meant what he said.

She tilted her head. "So you don't think I should go back? At least explain myself to Wells?"

He shook his head. "Oh, you should explain him. But make sure you're ready. Because facing him would mean to face your mother, too, and to face your decision and its impact on your life. And if you're sure, if you really don't want it anymore, then you have to take your time and distance to make sure you're doing it right and make it impossible for your mother to change your mind again. From what you've said, I get that she must be a very convincing woman if she got you to live a life you don't even like."

Clarke nearly started to cry again, but this time because of the thankfulness she felt for this guy who told her exactly what she wanted to hear.

Bur since she knew he didn't like crying, she pushed the tears back and just smiled. "Thank you."

He was about to say something but the waitress approached and put his order on the table. The pancakes smelled heavenly and she couldn't help but stare at them longingly.

"Um, you want some?" Bellamy asked after noticing her stare, and though Clarke really wanted to be polite and all just the look in her eyes gave her away when she mumbled "No, I'm fine…"

Before she could blink, Bellamy shoved the plate over to her and handed her the fork.

"Come on, have it. It's okay." She looked unsure, but after a few seconds of the scent filling her nose she couldn't help but dig in. She hadn't eaten anything all day since she had been way too nervous and she was starving.

Bellamy watched her, sipping his tea. "Why didn't you order something, if you're so hungry?" He finally asked.

"I don't have anything with me. No phone, no money, no keys so I could sneak back into my apartment… I'm really sorry; I'm not able to pay for this." She responded, pointing on the pancakes.

"Oh, it's okay. After all, your mother paid me in advance and I'm not taking any photos so we're nearly even."

She raised an eyebrow. "Since I know my mother and she's only happy with the best, I somehow doubt that your service costs as much as three pancakes."

He chuckled, and she noticed it was the first time she saw him smiling. And it was gorgeous. She could feel herself slightly blushing for no reason at all.

"So, are you a good photographer? I mean, can you make a living from it?" She asked.

He scratched his nose "Yes, I can."

Okay, he was definitely not oversharing.

"And why did you become a photographer?" She wanted to get to know more of him.

He sighed. "I had to drop out of college, because of family problems, didn't know what else to do."

Wow. How fascinating. She was starting to get annoyed by his shortness.

"I've always liked art, too. I used to draw a lot, but since I started college I hadn't had time." A look of sadness crossed her face. She missed drawing. When she was little, she always wanted to become a famous artist, but for her mother, there was no other option but to become a doctor.

"So, where are you staying tonight?" He asked, abruptly changing the subject. Private information was obviously not something he enjoyed sharing. He wasn't even comfortable with her telling him personal stuff.

"I actually have no clue." She frowned, realizing only now that she had no idea were to sleep. It frightened the hell out of her.

Bellamy was quiet for a few seconds, before he said

"I have a guestroom."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**

I'm really sorry for any grammar mistakes since English isn't my first language. I'm working on improving it. I'm also sorry for words that I looked up online because I always took the one that sounded best to me, but I don't know how common it actually is.

I hope you enjoy the story either way! I'm not completely happy with the chapter, but I know that I probably won't ever be, so here it is.

Please review, it could make my day or help me improve my writing! Thanks for reading:)

* * *

The ride on the motorcycle was once more incredible. She loved the freedom it brought and the wind in her hair and last but definitely not least, a reason to wrap her arms around Bellamy.

She couldn't deny that she felt sort of attracted to him, even if only physically.

They were heading to Bellamy's flat. Clarke expected a rougher part of the city, an old-fashioned building with an artsy, but simple flat. What she didn't expect was this high rising near the city center.

"You live in there?" She asked, surprised.

He smirked "Yes, I do."

She couldn't help but gape at him. This didn't really fit the image of a poor artist, making his living by doing photos on weddings while he only wanted to express his feelings in his work and open a gallery or something like that.

She followed him through the glass door, watched him greet the doorman and got into the lift after him.

The doors closed. And suddenly Clarke was all too aware how close they stood and how little space she had to cross to reach out to him.

The atmosphere was tense, almost electric, as if something was about to blow up.

She could feel him shifting from one foot to another, and then he turned towards her and opened his mouth to say something, when the doors opened again and an old couple entered the lift, chatting happily, breaking the spell.

The lift stopped at the top level and they got off.

"Top floor? Seriously?" She asked, but he just shrugged.

When Bellamy opened the door and let her in, her jaw dropped open.

It was so open, so large so modern and so beautiful. Everything was kept in white, beige and burgundy. Everything matched perfectly, though the tones were not always exactly the same, and there were so many beautiful masterpieces on the wall, photographs as well as paintings. One wall was mostly glass, and the view was just breathtaking.

And though the apartment was so modern, it still had a comfy note to it; it still felt like this was somebody's home. In front of the glass wall was a piano, and she couldn't help but imagine Bellamy playing it at five A.M. because he couldn't sleep until the sun started to rise and paint him and the piano in its soft golden light.

"This is… amazing." She exclaimed." I thought you were a poor artist!"

He smirked. His eyes were quite proud as his eyes wandered across his apartment.

"Well, I'm not completely fameless as it seems. There's this millionaire who believes my art is amazing and offers high prices for pieces he likes."

Clarkes surveyed the artwork on the walls. A photograph of a frozen waterfall caught her eye.

"Are these your photos?" She asked.

"No, I don't really believe in hanging up your own work. It's kind of… vain, I think. But I invest in art from time to time."

"It's beautiful. You really have taste."

"Yeah, but a lot of it is thanks to my little sister. Octavia. She helped me with the interior." At the mention of his sister, his face grew a bit softer.

Clarke noticed it. He seemed to love her a lot. "Where is she?" She asked curiously.

"She's at college here in Washington DC and lives in a dormitory with a roommate. She's studying health. I'm really glad she's so happy, we haven't always been."

This was the most information she had ever gotten from him. Apparently his sister was his weak spot.

"How about your parents?" she asked, wondering if she was going too far.

He immediately shut her out again. "They're dead. Come, I'll show you your room."

With that, he turned on his heels, not even giving Clarke the opportunity to say how sorry she was. She knew how he must feel. She had lost her father four years ago and had gone through the worst time of her life.

It was in that time when her mother changed. Before, she had also been controlling and often very strict, but after her father's death, she took controlling to a completely new level, leaving Clarke no freedom at all.

She followed Bellamy to his guest room, but they didn't really know what to do then. She had no bag to unpack, not even a purse. She stepped into the room either way; it was not too large and comfy. She suddenly saw herself in a huge mirror on the wall and was shocked.

She looked so … so worn-out.

Her dress was wrinkled and did not fit as perfectly as it did this morning; her hair was a complete mess, she looked like a scarecrow. Her make-up was blurred from her crying. In her mind, she compared herself to what she'd seen in the mirror almost four hours ago; the strapless crème white dress fitted every curve of her body perfectly, her gold-blonde hair was in a flawless up-do, a few strains framing her face, a gauze veil falling down her back and a lovely bucket of white roses in her hands while her mother was fiddling at the veil, trying to place it even better.

She shook the image off as Bellamy approached her and, too, eyed her reflection.

"Do you want something to change into?" All she could do was to nod in response.

He went out of the room and came back a few moments later, carrying some clothes.

"Here." He put them on the bed before shooting her a last look and leaving the room again.

Suddenly, she couldn't get out of her dress soon enough, but was struggling to reach the zipper.

"Damn it" She cursed as she nearly dislocated her arm trying to open it. Her position and the high heels caused her to lose balance; she stumbled and suddenly found herself falling on her butt with a soft thump.

"Ouch!"

There was a knock on the door and Bellamy's voices sounded muffled as he asked "Is everything alright? Clarke?"

"I'm fine" she replied and then added "but could you help me?"

He opened the door and saw her, sitting on the floor; he unsuccessfully tried to suppress laughter.

Clarke got up and raised her chin. "So, can you help me with the zipper?" She asked.

Bellamy got serious immediately. He suddenly seemed a bit self-conscious.

"Um, sure." He stood behind her as she lifted her hair with her hands. He carefully pulled down the zipper.

But Clarke hadn't thought of the fact that since she was using her hands to hold up her hair, there was nothing now to keep the dress from slipping. This wouldn't have been so bad if he had only seen her back, but they were standing in front of a mirror and the dress hung around her hips.

She was not wearing a bra.

His eyes went huge as he looked in the mirror, both of them too shocked to react. He blushed immediately as he realized that he was staring and spun around.

"I – I'm sorry, I –"He uttered, and she was too startled to say something when he stormed out the door.

* * *

Bellamy slammed the door of his room shut after him and leaned his back against it. His breath was still a bit uneven, and he couldn't get the picture of Clarke's bare chest out of his head.

And he was afraid it had turned him on.

He suddenly had another picture in his head. He was also unzipping her dress, but he was wearing a suit, and when the dress fell down, they didn't turn red and started being awkward, but she laughed as he put his hands on her waist and kissed her neck…And she turned around, taking off his tie and a golden ring blinked on her finger and she wiggled out of her wedding gown as she continued undressing him…

His heart was still pounding heavily as she knocked on his door.

"Can I come in?" He heard her saying through the door.

And he couldn't help but imagine her standing in front of the door without anything on. (He was a guy, after all.)

But of course that was not the case when he opened the door. She was standing in front of the door, her hair in a ponytail, and she was wearing his smallest grey T-Shirt, which was huge on her, and a pair of leggings from the pile of clothes O forgot here. Of course, he could have also given her one of O's shirts, but he kinda liked the idea of her wearing his clothes.

She looked really casual, but he thought that she was even more beautiful than she had been in her wedding gown.

He wondered what she would say. Was she here to lessen the awkwardness?

"Let's go out." She said, her voice steady.

"What?" He was surprised. He had been so caught up in what had just happened that he hadn't thought of the option that she didn't give a fuck.

"I want to drink. I've left my fiancé today. At the altar. And I want to get drunk."

Bellamy just arched an eyebrow and quickly thought it over. Why not?

"Fine. I know a bar not too far from here."

She seemed surprised that he agreed. "Okay, let's go then." She said after a short pause.

"You wanna go like this?" He asked, eyeing her comfy outfit. Most girls he knew, including his sister, loved to dress up and would spend hours in the bathroom before going out.

She took a quick glance over her outfit and then shrugged. "I really don't care."

Bellamy was a bit surprised, but in a positive way. It was refreshing to meet a woman who didn't just care about her looks.

"Okay. We can walk there, if that's okay with you." He said.

"I actually love walks, let's go!" She seemed really eager to go out.

"Alright, let's go. " He agreed.

* * *

It was a short walk to the bar, but nice. It was about 8 P.M and since it was summer, it was still warm outside. Bellamy lived in a nice, fancy neighborhood with a lot of friendly people coming their way who all greeted Bellamy with the nicest of smiles. _He must be very popular_ , Clarke thought to herself.

He didn't even get annoyed when she stopped to pet every single cat and every single dog crossing them. She just loved animals. She had always wanted a pet, but her mother disapproved.

When they arrived at the pub, it was already pretty full so they sat down at the bar.

She didn't lose any time and ordered two shots of tequila.

"I'll pay you back, I swear!" She told him because she didn't want to feel like a cadger. "You know, once I've figured it all out."

"You don't have to." He answered simply.

The bartender gave them their drinks and Clarke downed hers within a second.

"Another one, please." She noticed Bellamy's amused look.

She turned towards him and watched him drink his tequila, too.

"I bet my mom payed you an insanely high amount of money. Since you're a star photographer as it seems."

He chuckled. "Maybe. I don't do weddings, normally. I don't have to anymore."

Clarke sighed. Abby was all 'go big or go home'. The wedding must have costed a fortune.

Clarke had a slightly bad conscious at that thought, but quickly tried to down that with the next tequila shot arriving.

Since she hadn't eaten anything today except for three pancakes, she could already feel the alcohol kicking in.

Bellamy downed his shot and ordered another round. Clarke smiled, a bit groggy.

What a great guy.

* * *

It only took Clarke three shots to open up.

"I've always been into curls, y'know? Like, they're so cute and all and I've been dying to touch your hair all day, so can I please touch it?"

She didn't wait for an answer but just began stroking his hair while she continued to talk.

"I know that I should feel embarrassed because you've seen my breasts, but I have to admit that the look in your eyes was soo cute, like an innocent schoolboy seeing boobs for the first time, you know? Which was probably not the case since you're extremely hot and I bet girls are all over you, aren't they?"

She looked at him with big eyes, as if she was waiting for an answer. He cleared his throat. Was she expecting him to tell her about his sex life? He was certainly not drunk enough for that yet. The princess apparently couldn't take that much.

But he couldn't help but smile at the thought that she found him "extremely hot". He was about to say something, but she cut him off.

"My sex life is a bit boring. Wells was always so gentle and stuff and that's not a bad thing, you know, but I've always wanted him to be rougher, not always touching me like a raw egg."

His eyebrows arched up and he quickly took another shot. The thought of Clarke liking it hard… he found it suddenly hard to focus.

"Before him, I've only been with Finn, my high school love, and he was alike. I mean, just because I'm small and blonde doesn't mean I'll break if you touch me!"

She looked at him again as if she wanted his approval. They both took another drink.

"I don't know, I feel like every boy just treated me like a fragile princess, and it's just so boring. Between Finn and Wells, I had kind of a rebellious phase. I secretly dated a girl and it was great. Lexa was strong and independent and told it like it is and she was everything I wanted to be. And she was the first one to see more inside of me, you know? I miss her sometimes." Clarke trailed off, her eyes spacing out.

 _Oh my fucking god_ , he thought. He definitely needed tequila. Clarke being with a woman…he couldn't help the images in his mind. He found that incredibly hot. After gulping down his drink, he asked "What happened?"

Her eyes darkened immediately.

"My mother found out. She forbid us any contact and I think that she threatened Lexa. Anyway, I never saw her again. I've recently found out that she is now married."

Bellamy felt bad for her, when another thought crossed his mind.

"Wait, you said that you don't love Wells like that, is it because you're lesbian?" He asked, the alcohol loosening his tongue when he usually had kept quiet.

He didn't know why the thought of Clarke playing for the other team disturbed him like that, and why he was relieved when she shook her hand and giggled.

"No. I think I just love people and gender doesn't matter to me. Once in a while I'm drawn to females, but believe me; I'm definitely attracted to men as well."

And when she said that, she looked him over from head to toe, and then locked on to his gaze in a promising way that made him want to take off her clothes and do all kind of things with her.

Right here, right now.

* * *

Two hours later they were completely wasted. Even Bellamy opened up eventually and started telling stories about his childhood, like how he played tricks with Octavia or how he once fed his guinea pig with a power bar and it died from it. He told her he still believed until today that power bars were unhealthy.

They even made friends with some Dutch guys they met at the bar, who were hilarious. At least, drunk Clarke thought so. It only got uncomfortable when one of the men started hitting on Clarke and Bellamy suddenly got pissed and told the guy to fuck off because Clarke was way out of his league.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you're a couple. We're cool, mate." The man offered him is hand, but Bellamy just stared at him icily until he shrugged and went back to his friends.

Clarke still didn't know what to think of this, but she didn't really care right now. She just wanted to have fun. And when her favorite song started to play, she squealed loudly and grabbed Bellamy's hand pulled him away from the bar and started dancing. At first, he looked confused, but then he just went along with it.

Clarke laughed out loud. He couldn't dance at all. He was just adorable.

"Are you laughing at me?" He asked, a smirk on his face.

She nodded, giggling. "You're a terrible dancer!"

"Really? Well, then…" He suddenly pulled her very close and put his hands on her waist before whispering in her ear: "Then you have to show me."

Her pulse fastened immediately. His lips still hovered next to her ear, and she was so close to him she could feel the body heat radiating off him. His touch sent tingles down her entire body.

They started dancing again, but it was different. They moved along to each other's moves, so close they were nearly one person.

The whole bar noticed them of course, cheering and whistling and telling Bellamy to "grab the girl already".

Both their breathing fastened until he grabbed her wrist and tagged her along outside the bar.

He took her face in his hands while his eyes captured her with his deep gaze before finally bending down his head to kiss her.

When their lips met, tenderly, her lids shut automatically. His lips started to move softly and tender while his fingertips were caressing her cheeks and she responded to the kiss. Their lips started moving in sync, sending warmth through her whole body. Their lips parted as the kiss grew more intense.

Suddenly he pinned her against the wall, his lips opening and his tongue caressing hers, playing with it in a way that drove her wild. She bit down playfully at his lip and he groaned. His hands were all over her body, touching her, making her want more. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and moaned slightly as his mouth drew away from hers and he started placing kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

"Let's go home" She said, her voice raspy, and he just nodded.

Clarke didn't realize how drunk she actually was until they started to run. She stumbled several times and almost hit a few lanterns, even when Bellamy grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

They were both laughing as they reached the building, and as soon as they got on the lift, he kissed her again, not holding back. Her hands went under his T-shirt, touching his abs, which she hadn't seen yet but promised to be great.

He lifted her up and grabbed her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They nearly fell over when the lift stopped and both started laughing. He pulled her to the door and grabbed his key, trying to unlock the door.

It didn't work. "Damn it" he cursed, his words a bit slurry.

He tried to shove the key into the lock over and over, wondering why it didn't fit, when suddenly, the door flew open.

And Bellamy was hit in the face with a baseball bat.

Clarke's drunken self couldn't help but burst into laughter while Bellamy looked shocked and held onto his bleeding nose.

An old woman started yelling at them.

"I'll call the police! You were trying to break into my apartment! Not on my watch you filthy…"

It took Clarke a few seconds to realize that they were on the wrong floor and she started laughing even harder while Bellamy tried to explain without sounding too drunk and not getting hit by her again.

The woman squinted.

"You're Bellamy Blake?" She asked, still skeptical.

"Yeah, ma'am, and I'm sorry for disturbing you. We've just mistaken the floor."

The woman eventually let them go.

When they got to his apartment, Clarke wanted to make use of her medical knowledge, but after a while she gave up because she was way too drunk.

He then gave her a seducing look.

"Wanna continue where we left?"

She giggled and tried to kiss him, but he stopped her.

"I'm just gonna wash the blood off my face. You can already go to the bedroom." He smirked.

"Don't take too long" she whispered in his ear, took off her t-shirt and made her way to his bedroom.

He cursed silently. He wanted her so bad.

When he finished in the bathroom – he also did a few push-ups – he returned to his room and found her lying on his bed in her underwear.

Sleeping.

He sighed a bit frustrated, then silently tucked her in and lay down next to her.

The slept together. In the most innocent way.

He just wrapped his arms around her and hold her tight while she let out a little sigh and snuggled up to him.

And he softly stroked her hair until he fell asleep.


End file.
